


That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles

by ereshai



Series: The Christmas Cookie Capers [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Cookies, Gen, M/M, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers Christmas Cookie exchange. What can go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Feelstide prompt #6 - cookie exchange gone awry

Tony stared at the invitation in his hand. The paper was a creamy white, and the font was an elaborate hand written style. It had so many loops, he had to squint to make sense of the letters.

“Cookie exchange? JARVIS, is this Pepper’s idea?” He raised his voice to be heard over the kickass music playing at full volume.

“Indeed, sir. Miss Potts wished to add a personal touch to this year’s festivities. She asked me to tell you that you are not allowed to buy your contribution from a store.”

Tony tossed the invitation onto his workbench, and pulled on his heavy welding gloves. He had work to do, impending holiday or no impending holiday. “Of course not. That would be ridiculous. Get my personal chef on that, would you? Just tell him how many, and when and where.”

“Certainly, sir. What sort of cookies would you like?”

“Christmas cookies, JARVIS. Keep up, will you?” He put his welding mask on his head, the visor raised.

“Done, sir. He wishes to know if a pastry chef will be added to the kitchen staff.”

“Why don’t I already have one? I love a good pastry. Are cookies considered pastries? Get Pepper on that, would you? The chef thing, not the definition of pastry. Wait, no. Who’s my PA now? Whoever that is, tell them to do it.”

“Very well, sir.”

“And if I’m going to be forced to participate in this weird cookie scam, we need to lay down some ground rules. Well, one ground rule. Send it out as a mass email, text message, voice message, and any other form of communication I’ve ever employed with the team.”

“Of course, sir. What shall the message say?”

Tony flipped down his visor and started up his acetylene torch. “No gingerbread,” he shouted, confident that JARVIS would take care of everything.

**

Steve’s phone beeped at him. He pulled it out and read the text, his brow wrinkled. A new email notification popped up a moment later. He opened it to find the same exact message. When his voice mail chimed, he finally broke down.

“JARVIS, is that one from Tony, too?”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS answered. “In regards to Miss Pott’s cookie exchange.”

“Yeah, I got my invitation. Thanks, that clears things up. I didn’t realize he felt so strongly about cookies.”

“It was his only request, Captain.”

“All right,” Steve replied with a shrug. He grabbed his tablet and started searching for recipes. He would have to order the ingredients he needed soon.

**

Bruce shook his head as he received his multiple messages. If that was what Tony wanted…it was kind of strange, though.

“JARVIS, set a reminder for the day before the exchange, would you? After lunch.” He already had a recipe in mind.

“Of course, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce shook his head, and went back to the new paper on gamma radiation he’d discovered that morning. The author had some interesting ideas. He would have to talk to Tony about funding her research.

**

“Did you see this cookie thing, Phil?” Clint said as soon as Phil appeared on the viewscreen. “If Tony thinks I’m just going to do whatever the hell he says…”

Phil smiled and sat back in his chair. “Yes, Pepper invited me, too. I’m sure the thought that you would listen never crossed Tony’s mind. He does know you.”

Clint slumped. “Gingerbread is my favorite,” he whined.

“Then I guess you have a decision to make.”

Clint perked up. “What would make him crazier? Not doing what he says, which he’s expecting anyway, or completely confounding his expectations by doing what he wants?”

“Did you just say confounding?”

“What? I like it. Supervillain of the week was monologuing, and he used it a lot. About this cookie thing, though.” He flapped the invitation at the screen.

“Confound him, by all means. You don’t want to get too predictable.”

Clint grinned. “I knew marrying you was the right choice.”

“Did you really call to talk about cookies?” Phil reached up and loosened his tie, and Clint’s eyes darkened.

“Nope.” Clint whipped off his shirt and tossed it to one side.  “Hey, get naked. I wanna tell you all about that dream I had.”

**

Natasha read Tony’s messages, a tiny frown wrinkling her brow. Then it cleared as a devious smile crossed her face.

**

“I know not the art of baking cookies,” Thor announced to JARVIS. “At home, there are those who prepare such things.”

“Mister Stark has delegated this task to his personal chef, your Highness. Perhaps you might do something similar?”

Thor picked up Mjolnir. “I have told you, JARVIS, you may address me as Thor. If you wish to remain formal, Odinsson will suffice.” As he spoke, Thor opened the door that led out onto one of the many roofs of Stark Tower. “I thank you for your advice. We shall see what the kitchens of Asgard make of Midgardian sweets.”

Without waiting for a response, Thor exited the room. Minutes later, he disappeared in a rush of wind and light.

**

Tony walked into the common room, and was surprised to find only Pepper waiting for him. She was arranging several trays of cookies on the large table. On another, smaller table were stacked brightly decorated gift boxes, waiting to be filled with a variety of cookies.

“I thought this thing started at one o’clock,” Tony said.

“No, it starts at three o’clock, which is why I told you one o’clock. The others should be here soon.”

Tony gasped and put a hand to his chest in mock dismay. Pepper ignored him.

“Guillaume has outdone himself,” she said, looking at the elaborately decorated sugar cookies next to her somewhat lopsided spritz cookies. “I can’t wait to see what the others are bringing.”

“Did you actually make these yourself?” Tony asked, poking at one of the colorful wreath shapes. “I didn’t know you could bake.”

“I am a woman of many talents. Hands off, please.” Pepper’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and grimaced. “I have to take this. Do _not_ eat any of these cookies.”

As Pepper stepped into another room, already speaking forcefully into her phone, Clint and Phil walked in, with Bruce, Steve, and Natasha close behind them. They were each carrying several foil-covered trays. Phil set his down first, uncovering them to reveal neat rows of fudge cut into squares.

“That looks tasty,” Tony said, drawing back his hand at Phil’s raised eyebrow.

Clint uncovered his next, keeping an eye on Tony as he revealed his painstakingly created gingerbread people. His face fell when Tony rolled his eyes, but didn’t say a word.

Bruce and Steve set out their cookies next. Steve’s were six-pointed stars, white frosting turning them into snowflakes, and Bruce’s just plain round cookies. Both contributions were made of gingerbread.

Tony gaped like a fish for a long moment “What-“ he began, and Natasha revealed her cookies – snowmen, obviously gingerbread as well.

“I expected this from Hawkass,” Tony groused, “but why the hell would the rest of you completely ignore my _one goddam rule_ , and bring gingerbread? Except you, Phil. You’re good people.”

“Pepper requested that I bring the fudge. It was my mother’s recipe,” Phil said calmly, a twinkle in his eye.

“Tony, you asked for the gingerbread,” Steve pointed out. He took his phone out, and pulled up his text messages. “See?”

Tony took the phone. “Why does this message say ‘gingerbread’ instead of ‘no gingerbread’? I think I was pretty clear. JARVIS?“

“Sir?”

Thor entered the room, carrying what looked like a picnic basket. “I apologize for my lateness, friends. I have brought the requested cookies from Asgard.”

“Thank god,” Tony said, only a little ironically. “Please tell me you don’t have gingerbread on Asgard.”

“We do not,” Thor said. He placed the basket on the table, and it folded open, displaying several dozen strangely shaped animal cookies. “Though I believe these are very similar. My father’s bakers worked tirelessly to recreate the recipe.”

Tony groaned. “Think about this, you guys.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m still not over [what happened last year](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1081035). And even if I was, why would I ask everyone to bring the same thing?”

Everyone shrugged. Natasha had a smirk on her face, and Tony pointed an accusing finger at her. “You! You knew it was a mistake, didn’t you?”

Natasha nodded. “I just wanted to see the look on your face when you saw all the gingerbread. It was pretty hilarious. JARVIS, get me a copy of the video, would you?”

“Of course, Ms. Romanoff.”

“And you, JARVIS! What kind of prank is this? That isn’t the sense of humor I programmed you with.”

“Perhaps if Sir would turn down his music while wearing his welding helmet, this sort of miscommunication would not have happened.”

Tony shut his mouth abruptly, realization dawning on his face. Bruce was shaking with repressed laughter. The rest were all hiding their smiles. Clint had picked up a cookie, and he was chewing it noisily. He blinked in innocent confusion when Tony rounded on him.

“Wait. You got a message – multiple messages – from me that told you to bring gingerbread, and you actually brought gingerbread?”

“I’m a nice guy,” Clint said through a mouthful of cookie. “And it's my favorite.”

Bruce staggered over to the couch, laughing so hard that it came out as almost soundless gasps of air. His skin took on a green tinge, and his clothes tightened and split around his growing body.

“Oh, shit,” Tony murmured. Everyone froze as the Hulk looked around the room, a manic grin on his face.

“Cookies for Hulk?”

“You know what, sure. All for you. Go for it, big guy.” Tony shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, I want some of those, too,” Clint protested as Hulk picked up a tray and emptied the contents into his mouth.

Phil threw his arm around Clint’s chest, stopping him from getting into a tug-of-war with Hulk over another tray of cookies. “C’mon. Let’s go back to your floor. I’ll make a batch of gingerbread just for you.”

“All right,” Clint said, with a wistful look at the fast-disappearing treats. He followed Phil out of the room, throwing a jaunty wave and a wink at the rest of the group as he went through the door.

“This is entertaining,” Tony said, grabbing a handful of the expertly decorated cookies his chef had prepared. The others followed suit, and then they retreated across the room as the Hulk demolished tray after tray of gingerbread.

Pepper walked back into the room, Rhodey close behind her. She stopped when she caught sight of the Hulk and the remains of the cookies, glared at Tony, and turned and left the room again, shaking her head.

“What? I had nothing to do with this,” Tony yelled after her.

Rhodey slipped across the room, careful to avoid Hulk’s cookie binge, a box in his hands.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “My meeting ran long.”

“Are those your cookies for the exchange?” Steve asked politely.

“Yeah, but I guess you guys can just have them.” Rhodey opened the box and held it out. “Gingerbread, just like Tony wanted.”


End file.
